


Imbalance (Tramps Like Us Remix)

by heyjupiter



Category: Wolverine (Movies), X-Men (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-04 22:32:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4155456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyjupiter/pseuds/heyjupiter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remy's always up for a game, but he prefers to know the rules. When Jean and Scott ask him to play dreidel, he realizes there are more things he doesn't understand about Xavier's school than just Chanukah customs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Imbalance (Tramps Like Us Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [likeadeuce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeadeuce/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Imbalance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/63178) by [likeadeuce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeadeuce/pseuds/likeadeuce). 



> A remix of likeadeuce's lovely fic Imbalance, though it should stand on its own if you haven't read that. (But, you know, check that one out too.) I borrowed a few lines of dialogue from the original fic.
> 
> Thanks to cygnaut for beta reading!
> 
> This remixed version, unlike the original, is set shortly after the events of Origins: Wolverine. (If you don't recall the events of that fine film--Gambit, having previously escaped from Stryker's facility, returns with Wolverine to help rescue Scott and some other mutants. The kids leave with Xavier and Gambit goes off to the credits.) The timelines between Origins and the original X-Men trilogy maybe don't quite line up but... *hand wave*

Remy's life up till now has depended largely on his ability to read people, so he almost always knows when he's annoying people. He just doesn't always care. So when Scott and Jean find him playing solitaire in front of the TV, and Jean asks him if he wants to play dreidel with them, he showily shuffles his cards and asks, "You sure you wouldn't rather play something a little more exciting? Strip poker, maybe?"

Scott glares at him, but Jean giggles and says, "Nice try, Remy, but no thanks. Besides, I thought Professor Lehnsherr might like it if we played dreidel. You know, it's a Chanukah tradition, and there aren't any other Jewish people here?"

Remy nods solemnly. "How about strip dreidel, then?"

"How would that even _work_?" Scott asks. "Do you even know how to play dreidel?"

Remy shrugs, because he doesn't. "I am sure we could figure something out."

"No. No stripping," Jean says. "It's a little cold for that, anyway, isn't it?"

"Don't," Scott says. 

Simultaneously Remy says, "I could warm you up, cherie." Then Remy laughs and pockets his deck of cards. "I'm only joking. If dreidel is what the lady wants to play, dreidel is what we'll play." He wishes Ororo were here; she's the only one of the students who seems to get his jokes. But she's gone to visit relatives in Kenya over winter break, so Remy's really just keeping himself entertained. 

"We'll play in the living room," Jean says. "Professor Xavier is there, so Professor Lehnsherr will probably be there soon."

"Bien," Remy says. He turns the TV off before following them down the hall. Nothing good had been on, anyway. Just some old movie about the True Meaning of Christmas. Remy had been raised nominally Catholic, but growing up in New Orleans made it hard to put much faith in the Virgin Birth. Growing with thieves made it equally hard to believe in Santa Claus. Still, he loved an excuse for a party.

In the living room, they find Xavier reading in front of the huge Christmas tree that makes the whole room smell like an air freshener. Jean asks, "Professor Xavier, do you want to play dreidel with us?"

Professor Xavier smiles kindly at them and says, "No, thank you. I've just gotten to the good part of my book. But you have fun."

"Okay," Jean says. "Well. Scott and Remy, here, let's sit in a circle on the floor. Now… we each get some gelt to start." She counts out a small pile for each of them and adds, "Oh, and we all put one in the middle. Then you spin the dreidel, and then depending on what side is up, you take some or give some. Or do nothing. That one's nothing." 

After she explains the other three sides of the dreidel, Remy says, "It's a little like roulette, oui?"

"Sure," Jean says. Remy's pretty sure Scott just rolled his eyes, behind the glasses.

Remy picks up one of his pieces of gelt and experimentally palms it. Then he flips it along between his fingers. It's an old habit, and he's not even consciously showing off, but Jean applauds.

Scott says, "You're going to melt your pot before the game even starts."

Remy looks closer at the gelt. Jean says, "It's chocolate! So we can eat it after we're done playing."

 _That_ explains why the weight is off on the coin. Remy flips the piece of gelt back on top of his pile and nods at Jean. "Well, cherie, why don't you start?"

She spins. "Gimel! I get all of it!" she says, excitedly. She sweeps the three pieces in the middle towards her.

"Now what?" Remy asks.

"Oh! Um, if it gets to nothing in the middle, we all put another piece back in," Jean says.

"Ah, the house always wins," Remy says sagely. Scott snorts. 

Scott spins the dreidel and gets nun. Nothing. He shrugs and passes it to Remy. Remy spins it with a flourish and gets nothing, too. Dreidel seems like a game of pure chance, which means it's harder to cheat--though perhaps not impossible. He studies the top with faux casualness, wondering if it would be possible to make a weighted version. Not that he's planning on it or anything, but he can't help but wonder. 

He's still thinking about it while Jean takes her turn. Remy's had to do a lot of remedial work since coming to Xavier's school six months ago. He'd drifted in and out of school when he was younger. Mostly out. The two years he'd spent being experimented on by Stryker had been particularly rough on his schooling.

But Professor Xavier tells him he's smart, that if he could apply as much attention to schoolwork as he did getting out of doing schoolwork, he'd be a straight-A student. Remy still doesn't see much point in it. He'll learn what he needs to know, but soon enough he'll be back in New Orleans with the Thieves Guild, and they don't exactly require a college degree. 

Just as soon as Jean-Luc sends word that everything's blown over, Remy will be back where he belongs. Until then, there are worse places to be than playing a silly game with a pretty girl, he thinks, as Jean spins another gimel. Her excited clapping makes her cleavage shake in a way that Remy admires, as he admires all fine art.

When the dreidel gets back to him, he sings, "Luck be a lady tonight." Scott looks physically pained, but Jean smiles, and Remy keeps going. "Luck, if you've ever been a lady to begin with… luck be a lady tonight!" Then he blows on the dreidel for good measure and lets it go. It comes up gimel, and he smiles. "See, Scott, the dreidel likes Gambit's singing, even if'n you don't."

Scott's looking increasingly sour, and his pot of gelt is looking low. "Grow up, Remy," he says.

Remy laughs. They keep playing, and he keeps singing. Scott's never liked him, even though--or really, because--Remy had helped rescue Scott and the rest of the kids from Three Mile Island. Jean, whose parents had brought her to the school in lieu of another mental institution--Jean, who had only chosen to stay over winter break so Scott wouldn't be stuck with Remy--owes Remy nothing, and so she likes him more. 

Remy's a few years older than Scott, but he'd arrived at the school later. When Xavier had arrived on the Island and taken Scott and the rest of Stryker's stolen kids back to the school, he'd invited Remy, too. Remy had declined the invitation at the time--he'd had his own life in New Orleans. And, although he was happy Xavier had mysteriously arrived in time to transport all the kids back, since they sure as hell weren't going to fit in his plane (Remy misses that plane), he couldn't help but be a little resentful that Remy had suffered two years on the Island and nobody had come to rescue him. Xavier had apologized to him since then, explaining that although he tried his best to look out for mutants, he wasn't omnipotent. 

Remy probably never would have come to the school if he hadn't gotten himself into hot water with Belladonna and the Assassins Guild. He's grateful to Xavier for giving him a safe (and fancy) place to stay, but he knows, deep down, that he doesn't really fit in here. He doesn't _want_ to fit in here.

"Remy, quit staring at Jean and take your turn," Scott snaps.

"Desole," Remy says, turning his attention back to the game. He had been gazing in Jean's direction, though his thoughts had been of Belladonna. He wonders what she's doing tonight, and he assumes it's a lot more exciting than dreidel. "Can you blame me for appreciating the view?"

"Yes. She's fifteen," Scott says.

"I'm almost sixteen," Jean protests.

Scott grits his teeth and says, "It doesn't matter, you're still too young for _Gambit_."

Remy spins the dreidel and says, "I didn't know there were laws against looking." He's eighteen and has no real interest in Jean, but he doesn't appreciate Scott's scolding. It's obvious to him, anyway, that Scott and Jean will end up together, but until Scott mans up and makes a move, Remy sees no problem in looking. Jean doesn't seem to mind. He removes two gelt from his dwindling pile and passes the dreidel on. 

Professor Lehnsherr enters the room. He pauses in front of their game, scowls, and says, "Children. Aren't you a bit old--?"

" _Erik_ ," Professor Xavier interrupts. Professor Lensherr sighs and shakes his head. He walks past their little game and kisses Xavier's head before settling next to him. 

When Remy had arrived at the school, Scott and Jean had pulled him aside to let him know their professors were a couple. Jean had wanted to protect the professors' feelings; Scott had assumed that Remy would be grossed out. Apparently neither of them had taken into account the fact that Remy had grown up in New Orleans. Remy prides himself on being hard to shock, and it will take more than two old basically-married guys to do it. 

Remy is a little surprised that Lehnsherr declines to play the game that's supposedly for his benefit, cutting off Jean's excited explanation of how she learned the game from her Jewish friend Abby. He explains, curtly, "There is no need to carry on for my benefit. I never played this game. The holiday is largely a commercial invention, for the sake of American girls and boys who might otherwise be seduced by Christmas."

Lehnsherr is often blunt, sometimes mean. Remy doesn't generally mind it--it seems honest, and he's heard worse. But he's surprised to see it targeted at Jean, who's usually a favorite of both professors.

"Oh. That's silly of me," Jean says. She tries to smile, but she has a terrible poker face, and Remy knows that Lehnsherr has hurt her feelings. 

"Jean, you aren't being silly. It's very thoughtful of you--" Xavier tries to tell her, his voice soothing, almost patronizing.

Unconvincingly, she says, "I'm _fine_ ," and spins the dreidel aggressively. They all watch it spin and spin, until Scott slams his hand down on it. It sounds like it's still vibrating under his hand.

"Jean. How many times in a row did you win?" Scott asks cautiously. Remy looks at her pile of gelt, caught by surprise once again. He can't believe he didn't put it together himself, but now that he thinks about it, her mutant gifts are _perfect_ for hustling. 

"I didn't mean to. I'm so embarrassed," she says, burying her face in her hands.

" _Embarrassed_? Can you do that with dice?" Remy asks. He smiles, hoping to make light of the situation. Also, he genuinely wants to know if she can do it with dice.

"Gambit! This isn't funny!" Scott snaps.

Remy widens his smile and says, "Nothing funny about it, mon ami. Gambit and the little lady, we walk into a casino, I tell everyone she's my luck and... Laissez les bons temps rouler."

"Okay, first of all, again, she's fifteen. No one's letting her into a casino. Second of all, would you knock it off with the French, already? You're not French. Third of all, _why_ won't you stop talking about yourself in the third person? What's--"

"Scott! Why are you shouting?" Jean asks, putting a hand on Scott's chest. Remy had wondered when Scott would finally snap and yell at him, but he finds it's not as satisfying as he'd hoped. 

"Lady's right," Remy says, nodding at Jean. "Who cares?"

"Because… Jean, if something is happening with your powers that is out of your control--" Scott says. Remy still doesn't really see what the big deal is. Before Remy had gotten his powers under control, he used to accidentally make things explode. _That_ had been a problem. Accidentally winning at games? That was a perk.

Remy watches as Scott's face goes blank. He's been at the school long enough to recognize the look of someone getting a telepathic message, and he wonders what's being said. 

Then Scott says, incredulously, "Let it _be_? It's being taken care of?"

Lehnsherr says, " _It's being taken care of_? Is that our official position now?"

"She's not an 'it'. She's _Jean_. You--this is, this is--bullshit," Scott spits at Xavier. Remy whistles appreciatively. He'd thought Scott was too much of a teacher's pet to ever curse at one of the professors--especially not Xavier. He's still not entirely sure what's happening, but he thinks he might agree with Scott. _It's being taken care of_ sounded remarkably like something Stryker might tell one of his lackeys right before giving Remy a dose of some new drug that made his brain go blank or his powers turn fuzzy. 

"This is _bullshit_ ," Scott repeats, and storms out of the room. Remy's reevaluating everything. Maybe Scott's not as much of a pussy as he'd thought. Maybe Jean's more powerful than he'd thought. Maybe Professor Xavier isn't as benevolent as he'd thought. 

Remy flips one of his pieces of gelt between his fingers thoughtfully. If it comes down to it, he knows he can survive on the streets again. He'd prefer to wait it out here, until Jean-Luc and the Thieves Guild will take him back, but if he has to leave here, he will. Professor Xavier isn't keeping Remy prisoner here. Is he? Remy suddenly can't shake the feeling that maybe he doesn't know all the rules to this game.

Jean walks away from Xavier's attempts to soothe her. "Scott forgot his coat. He's cold," she says, her voice tight. She puts Scott's coat over her arm and stalks out. Both professors look perturbed in her wake, and neither of them are paying any attention to Remy.

He sweeps the forgotten pile of gelt into one of his coat pocket before slipping out of the living room, past the patio, where Scott and Jean are having an intense conversation, and into the garage. He draws his trench coat tightly around him against the New York winter. He borrows one of Xavier's fancy cars, just to make sure he still can. Happily, he's able to hotwire it without a problem. He turns up the radio and speeds down the highway, singing along with Bruce Springsteen about the need to get out of town.

Remy's made his life playing games that are harder than dreidel, and one of the hardest parts is knowing when the time comes to leave the table. Remy's been known to linger at the table a little too long. All he can do now is try to keep up with the rules of whatever game Xavier might be playing and hope he can cut his losses if the time comes to run. 

He drives aimlessly all night, eating chocolate coins and hoping that everything at the school will be back to what passes for normal when he returns in the morning. And if it's not, at least he knows leaving this place will be a hell of a lot easier than leaving Three Mile Island was.


End file.
